


The Outcasts

by creamXgrim



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Humor, Fluff, M/M, Romance, SHEITH - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creamXgrim/pseuds/creamXgrim
Summary: Keith was tired of being persecuted for being a half-Galra. Similarly, Takashi Shirogane - the so-called strongest man on Earth - was considered an aberration, mistreated and experimented on, and isolated himself somewhere. To Keith, finding this man was his only chance of escaping from solitude.





	1. Chapter 1

He knew it was a difficult task - practically impossible, possibly suicidal, definitely dangerous. The desperate,  _hazardous_  delusion of a madman - because that was exactly what he was: utterly and undeniably  _mad_. Frustration,  _loneliness_  did that to people.

To  _half-people_  as well.

His objective was meeting Takashi Shirogane, the strongest man on Earth. There wasn’t much known about the guy or how he became so strong - it was said he could lift a truck with the palm of his hand, without breaking a sweat - but everyone who’s heard of him had the same thoughts on the matter.

They called him a freak. A monster. An  _aberration_.

Keith knew these words all too well.

He was unsure how long he had searched,  _researched_. The guy didn’t want to be found. But Keith wanted to find him, screw danger, screw  _logic_ , and that’s exactly what he did - he found his target, in the middle of nowhere, hidden by eternal winter. Keith was trembling under the snow, facing a rundown shack that would be very similar to his own if it wasn’t for all the junk scattered outside. Everything was broken. There was a fridge, a couch, a door, trees, a goddamned  _wooden wall_ , a… was that a roof? It was a roof.

Keith let out a shaky breath. The whole thing seemed like a bad idea the more time he spent looking at the junk cemetery.

He closed his fists, though, and ventured forward - he came too far to simply give up.

His feet dug into the snow and it was difficult to reach the front door - did this Shirogane person stay tucked inside long enough to not need to shovel the flakes out of the way? Judging by how the shack was tucked on the foot of the mountain and how the nearest city was miles and miles away, it was safe to assume that his target usually bought enough food to last for a while.

Letting out a breath, puffing white against the cold, Keith reached forward and knocked on the door, once, twice,  _thrice_. Each touch on the wood gave him a different palpitation on the chest, hopefully not the imminent threat of a cardiac arrest. His lips were dry and  breath caught inside, fingers trembling in anticipation.

Danger. Shirogane was danger.

He could kill Keith with the flick of a finger.

And he opened the door.

Keith had to manually force himself not to take a step back -  _don’t look like a threat_ , he told himself - but he couldn’t help how utterly baffled he certainly looked. His jaw hurt from being open so wide.

The guy was huge. He topped Keith by the size of a whole head, and sported arms probably as thick as Keith’s thighs. One of them was robotic. His messy long hair had thick streaks of white up front, and coal black everywhere else.

Keith flinched when he met Shirogane’s eyes - dead serious, half-glaring, two piercing orbs of metallic grey. A scar cutting across the man’s nose was the cherry on top of th _e “don’t mess with me, I’m trouble_ ” look.

He was… different from what Keith expected. From what he’d seen on pictures - a little old, he’ll give them that - Shirogane was a generic army guy, not some fantastic, homicidal-looking character pulled out of a sci-fi movie.

“Who are you? And why are you here?”

Keith’s breath locked higher inside his throat as the man’s strangely crystalline, yet deep baritone voice reached his ears. The half-Galra stuttered, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, while staring wide-eyed at what was probably going to be his doom.

“I,” he breathed out almost mechanically, “I’m Keith.”

“Keith,” Shirogane repeated, slanting his eyes. The way the name rolled off his tongue was contemplative, but foreboding. “What do you want?”

“I want… to know you,” he spoke between slightly gritted teeth, hiding his anxiousness behind them.

“To know me?”

Shirogane cocked an eyebrow and closed his robotic hand into a fist that glowed pink. In a smooth, practiced movement, he hit the wall beside him.

There was the distinguished sound of wood shattering; the whole house rattled on its frame. Keith looked up at the roof expecting it to fall right on top of his head.

Well, it kind of did. All the snow that was piled up in there, at least.

“This is all you need to know about me,” Shirogane warned, his voice muffled by the snow that buried Keith alive. The door closed immediately after.

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Keith mumbled as he freed himself from his icy prison.

Well, no matter. He liked himself a challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

The biting cold wasn’t something Keith was used to - he’s had his fair share of horrible, hell-freezing winters, yes, but his body just would not accept the inhospitable weather. His frame instinctively hunched over, trying to contain what little warmth it could, and his eyebrows creased angrily and automatically.

He curled his gloved fingers into his palm tight enough to make an almost perfect ball as he knocked on the door again, and immediately buried them inside his pocket.

Shirogane could want to hide all he wanted, but he _was_ going to listen to Keith one way or the other.

Amidst the howling of the wind on his ears, Keith caught the sound of shuffling inside the house. When it didn’t culminate on Shirogane answering the door, the half-Galra knocked again.

_“Go away!”_

Keith scoffed - did Shirogane really think he would leave just because he was  _told to_? For the love of God, Keith had the guts to find him in this hellhole in the middle of nowhere; he should know better than that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Keith yelled at the door, “At least not until you listen to me!”

_“You already told me what you want. And I’m telling you to leave!”_

Keith huffed angrily and kicked the door out of impulse. It didn’t open, but he hoped the loud bang was enough to make it clear that he would not falter in his decision _._  “I will  _not_  leave!”

If he did, he would just…

Be alone.

Again.

The half-Galra took in a deep breath, pushing back the sting in his chest in favor of yelling again, albeit not as loud and animated as before. “I’ll be here!”

Sighing, Keith kicked snow around. It was obvious that he would have to wait for a while, so he pushed away what he could of the flakes closest to the door and sat with his back against it, curling his body into a tight, angry little ball.

Damn Shirogane. He could at least _try_ to listen to Keith’s request. It was…  _odd,_ at best, but he had his reasons - and it wasn’t possible that the guy actually _liked_  to be all by himself in such extreme levels. He was either really weird, or something happened that made him want to seek absolute solitude.

Keith hoped it wasn’t the latter.

/X/

Keith checked his phone. One full hour had gone by. His occasional sighs were coming out rash and there was a layer of snow over his shoulders and head that he stopped bothering to wipe off at some point.

“I’m still here,” he yelled at nothing, just to make sure Shirogane didn’t think he had left. He received no response.

/X/

Two hours.

Keith saw a fox, but it ran away as soon as the half-Galra tried calling out to it. His cheeks burned and his nose became a popsicle - or at least he figured it had. He couldn’t quite feel it anymore. It was difficult to keep both his fingers and face warm, so he made the choice, and though it was coming back to bite him in the ass - another thing he couldn’t feel because of the cold - it was too late to remedy the situation.

Keith knocked weakly on the door rather than screaming that he was there. His vocal chords were all frozen for what he knew.

/X/

At the mark of three hours, his phone stopped working. Frozen. Keith barely had the strength to sigh, groan or simply complain in any way about the shitness of the situation he found himself in.

He was going to freeze to death.

Keith let a small, silent laugh escape him as he buried his face on his knees - he would die and no one would miss him. He had nothing, no one to return to, and the one person he thought could help change this didn’t give two flying fucks about him.

He just wanted a friend. Someone to talk to. Someone to trust. Nothing else.

As usual, that was too much to wish for.

Pursing his chapped lips, Keith forced himself not to cry.

It didn’t work.

/X/

“…y-”

What…

“…hey!”

No, no, let him sleep… just five more minutes…

“I can’t believe this…! How can you be so  _inconsequential?!_ You almost  _died!”_

Keith mumbled indignantly in response. He wasn’t inconsequential, he was… stubborn. No… determined. Yeah, that’s what he was. Determined. Shame on you for thinking wrong of him, you.

…you?

Who?

Keith snapped his eyes open, heart throbbing, and reached forward, his whole body burning in painful reprobation. His vision was too blurry to make out anything; he could only feel how much it fucking hurt to be alive, and how he was obviously being pushed down. But where was he? In the snow? But it didn’t feel cold - and it didn’t feel hard - was he in a bed? A bed  _where_? Keith struggled against the grip on his shoulders with all his strength, but it seemed to be for naught.

“Hey- Hey, calm down! You’re lucky I didn’t break any of your bones when I brought you inside. Don’t make me do it now.”

…inside?

Keith slowly, manually regulated his breathing. His lungs ached and his throat felt sore, but nothing was worse than the way his muscles throbbed in intense agony even when he didn’t move. With his sight clouded and body having difficulty detecting temperature, he could only assume he was feverish - but there was also comfort. His back was against something soft and cozy, probably a bed, and something fluffy and heavy was draped over him. Did someone find him about to die and rescued him…? But it sounded like he’d heard Shirogane’s voice…

“Why are you doing this…?”

Again. That was  _definitely_  Shirogane. Did he… carry Keith into the shack…?

The half-Galra opened his eyes once more, seeing better than before, if only a little blurrily, under a yellowish light. Keith turned his head to the side, to take in more of his surroundings, but his breath hitched when he saw Shirogane sitting beside him on the bed, and specifically the expression on the man’s face.

He was sad. Broken. _Tired._  Eyebrows tilted slightly down, wearied eyes, mouth set into a tight line.

It was like staring into a mirror.

“I already told you,” the half-Galra murmured truthfully, “I just want to know you. I’m not your enemy.”

Shirogane gave a curt, humorless laugh, eyes set to the side and then basically everywhere that wasn’t Keith.

“Why would you want to know me? I’m just…” He shrugged with heavy shoulders. “Just a monster.”

Keith opened up an empathetic smile.

“That’s because… I happen to be a monster myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 already on the works! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Shirogane blinked a few times at Keith, thick eyebrows creasing like he didn't quite understand what he was just told. “You’re… like me?” he breathed out, voice hopeful and eyes almost twinkling as he waited for an answer. To say it was a stark contrast to how serious and ill humored he had been just hours before was quite the understatement.

“I’m an alien,” Keith told, “Half alien. Galra, specifically.”

“Oh.”

Keith braced himself for the worst - Shirogane stared at him from different angles, frowning and pursing his lips in concentration. It was only a matter of seconds before the man went on and on about how Galra are batshit homicidal maniacs, manipulating bastards, violent scum of the universe, plus the whole book on curses and swearing and all the nasty yadda yadda he was more than used to. Truly, nothing the man said would surprise him at this point.

Shirogane finally hummed, leaning back on his robotic arm, and blurted out, “Isn’t your skin supposed to be purple?”

...who’s in the fucking  _ what _ now?!

“I just told you I’m half-Galran and  _ this _ is the first thing you say?”

Not that he was annoyed, irritated or, really, _anything_. He just wanted to make sure he was hearing right, because it wasn’t _possible_ that after all the _years_ he required to get used to people reacting badly to his descendance, he would _not need_ to control his temper. Even _the_ _temper itself_ materialized into a being inside his head that looked just as confused as he was.

“I… was… supposed to say something else?” Shirogane asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“Well, yeah. I mean, no. I don't know.”

“Alright. Uhm.” The man scratched the back of his head, his long locks swaying haphazardly. “You’re… quite  _ short _ for a Galra, aren’t you?”

Keith deadpanned. Now  _ this _ was a good moment to control his temper.

Not that it was…  _ short _ , or anything.

He obviously wasn’t, either.

Goddammit.

Keith sat up slowly, carefully, trying not to overexert his tired and frostbitten body. He found that his throat was very sensitive as well, so he kept his voice low. “You’re not going to be hostile? You’ve gone to space. You’ve surely seen how Galra can be… aggressive.”

“I have, but I could ask you the same. You’ve heard of the things I’ve done, haven't you? And yet, here we are.”

It was almost _ infuriating _ how flawless Shirogane’s logic was. Keith had no way to counter.

They stared at each other for a long moment, silently, contemplating, before Keith finally broke his gaze away and pulled the blankets tighter around his body. “I don’t care what people say, Shirogane, I just-”

“Shiro.”

Keith looked up at him again, knitting his eyebrows in silent questioning.

“Call me Shiro,” the man completed, wearing for the first time a smile that reached his eyes.

The half-Galra almost bit his tongue, stuttering. “Sh-Shiro,” he managed to repeat after a moment, “Why did you isolate yourself…?”

Shiro’s smile dropped, as did his gaze. He brought it back up after a moment, but Keith had already regretted asking anything by then. “It’s difficult living in society when you’ve lost all your value as a human being.” He blinked twice at Keith, mouth innocently hanging open. “Uh, no offense!”

“None taken.”

Keith almost let a smile draft on his face. That was the first real conversation he’s had in… in  _ ages _ , and Shiro was actually quite pleasant a company.

“What about you? What brings you to my evil lair?” Shiro asked softly, with a playful smile. Keith found it impossible to hold back a grin this time, but he forced it back to answer the question.

“I just…” Keith pursed his lips, searching for the right words. “I just wanted someone to talk to.”

Shiro looked at him like he was aware that wasn't everything. Like he was aware that -  _ obviously - _ no one in their sane mind would do what Keith did, risking his own life, just to have a conversation partner - not that Galra were very sane to begin with. But he didn't pry. He didn't judge. He just stared at Keith solemnly, with empathy showing in his eyes so strongly that the half-Galra had to avert his gaze to avoid revealing any more.

“We can talk,” Shiro said softly, way too softly for someone with his reputation - his voice was almost silk, relieving like the lighthouse to a lost ship. “But you don't have to be in a hurry. You’re running a fever and I’m sure you’re tired.”

Keith nodded silently. His trip to the mountains was indeed physically and mentally straining. Adding in the hours he spent outside freezing like a snowmanlien - or whatever half-Galra became when they died a horrible, cold death - and how his body was all sore and sick, it was a miracle he was even still conscious.

“Alright, you take a nap. I’ll show you around when you're feeling better,” Shiro said as he reached for a small towel that was laying on the mattress. He twirled his lips around as he dipped the fabric into a bowl by the nightstand, and shyly glanced between it and Keith. “Uhm, not that there's much to see. I, uh… I break a lot of stuff.”

There was a light dusting of pink on the man's cheeks that made Keith grin softly as he laid on the bed. Shiro silently and carefully twisted the towel to get rid of the excess water and hesitated as he brought it closer to Keith.

He pursed his lips, brows knit together and a look of utmost concentration on his face as he slowly placed the humid fabric over Keith's forehead. The half-Galra winced at the cold in contrast to his burning skin, and Shiro immediately flinched. “Did I hurt you…?” he whispered, eyes roaming over Keith's face.

“Nn. S’ cold,” Keith gurgled in return.

The relieved sigh escaping Shiro's lips was clear indication that he’d injured people by accident before. Judging by his reaction, many times.

“Keith,” he called softly, “Sorry that I pushed you away when you arrived. People don’t usually want to… just  _ talk.” _

_ And you have to defend yourself,  _ was Keith's thought.

“Nothing I haven't experienced myself,” he admitted painlessly. That was almost routine for him, honestly, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was part of the reason why Shiro decided to lead a lonely life. He didn’t look like the kind of person who would enjoy having to hurt others.

Shiro gave him a small, empathetic smile before standing up. “Rest. I’ll be around if you need me.”

The man walked over to the wall and flipped the light switch. Keith was bathed in a darkness that he relished; his eyes stung and he was far too tired to be able to keep them open any longer even if he wanted.

/X/

He woke up briefly during the night. The dim light of a candle caught his sleepy attention; he could barely open his eyes but was able to make out Shiro’s form, sitting by the other end of the room, lit up by the golden glow as he read a book.

Shiro glanced at him from over the book and stood up, approaching. If Keith had to defend himself he would be as good as dead; he couldn’t move a muscle. His eyes instinctively closed as Shiro gently pressed warm fingers to his forehead. They felt solid, rocklike; probably from his robotic hand. Keith would have guessed it was cold, but the heat was a welcome surprise. The half-Galra barely noticed when he fell back asleep.

/X/

The next time he opened his eyes, the room was brighter - with how much it felt like he slept, he safely assumed it was dawn. Shiro was changing the towel on his forehead with as much patience and concentration as he had before, like he was worried he would crush Keith with the slightest of wrong movements.

He was probably right.

But he seemed to be so kind, and so gentle. It was difficult seeing him as the god of destruction he was portrayed to be.

Was this really the man Keith had been looking for?

“Keith,” he whispered as he adjusted the fabric, “Your fever isn’t going down. I’ll need to head to the city to get you some medicine. Do human chemicals work on you?”

The half-Galra nodded but promptly regretted doing so; his head spun and throbbed like he spent the whole night banging it like a hammer against the wall.

“Alright. There’s food in the kitchen if you feel hungry. I should be back before sunset.”

Keith mumbled a small response this time, weak and broken, before slowly drifting back to sleep, lulled by the ticking of a nearby clock and the soft sound of a door closing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading so far! :D  
> Check out my tumblr for artwork on the story and other updates: [creamXgrim]


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